


Mycroft's Nightmare

by Louhime



Series: The Future Of The Holmes Family [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Blood, Established Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Graphic Description, In the same universe as my previous Sherlock story, M/M, Major Illness, Mild Language, Mpreg, Panic, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-09
Updated: 2015-11-09
Packaged: 2018-04-30 17:39:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5173205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Louhime/pseuds/Louhime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft knows many things about the world. He knows all the streets of London. He knows what Sherlock's laugh sounded like as a little boy. He knows that Greg Lestrade is the center of his entire universe. He knows that luck is a fickle mistress and she can turn the tables in an instant. </p><p>What Mycroft doesn't know is how long a minute feels when his world comes crashing down around him. He doesn't know how it feels to think his entire life is going to end. He doesn't know what if feels like to watch helplessly and not know what to do.</p><p>But he is about to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mycroft's Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome! Welcome! I hope I see a few returning readers in this crowd! Quickly before I let you get on, this story is in the same universe as my previous dabbling in the BBC Sherlock pool. This story roughly takes place around a week after my last one. So the boy's lives haven't changed a whole hell of a lot. And as usual I will put some more warnings at the end of this work just so if you do feel the need to check, others who don't want to wont see them beforehand. I hope you enjoy. It was actually quite hard to write some of this as I've been on the other end of this sort of thing not Mycroft's side!
> 
> I shall let you go now my dears, read on!

Greg laughed hard, tears forming in the corners of his eyes.  His face was lit up seeming to Mycroft that he was everything light and good personified. Greg tipped his head back as the laughter petered out leaving him stretched out on the bed and emanating happiness. He lay in nothing but his skin and was flushed with sweat. To Mycroft there was nothing in the world more beautiful, more wonderful then the man who loved him and the happiness they shared.  

Their cooling bodies lay close, enjoying the heat of each other’s skin. Greg ran a soothing hand across his stomach and relaxed fully back on his mound of pillows, an ongoing amusement to Mycroft as it seemed to grow with every passing month much to Greg’s irritation.

He glanced towards the bump that seemed to grow right before his eyes every day growing closer to becoming a proper little person. The skin and muscle, deceptively soft and delicate, which shielded their baby. He placed a hand on that warm skin and smiled at his husband, who smiled right back. Greg lay his own atop of Mycroft’s and linked their fingers.

He could not wait to hold their child in his arms and feel the weight of a dream come true.

Mycroft had never wanted much in life. A good job and a close family, was all he wished for. That was all he wanted and it had never been easy. Sherlock was a loving child but stubborn and sometimes wilful to the point of cruel. Father worked tirelessly in his own minor governmental position and mother. Well, she tried to be there but three children who were determined to be individuals and a husband she did not truly love but married for companionship, mother was as good as she could be, given the circumstances.

It didn’t help that Sherlock discovered the seedier side of the world rather early and that he revelled in it. Anything for a rush, anything for the boredom. Mycroft was sworn to secrecy about how it affected their mother, especially after he came back to the family. When he turned to crime fighting with his little blogger to stave off the boredom. He hated his little brother just a little for it, causing her so much grief. But it was one secret that Sherlock had never found out. Never would.

Quentin was a darling child but he too found himself mischief as easily as Sherlock did. It was a safer sort of trouble but mother still struggled with it. He lost himself in code and computers as quickly as Sherlock in a mystery or himself in a ‘dispute’ at work. They all had their vices. But when orders came down through their absent father for his smallest brother, to whisk him off to the ministry of defence. That was a hard day for all.

All their mother wanted was them, safe and happy and together. Even though she cried for them, let them hurt her, she had an iron will. Mycroft knew that it was her influence in them all that kept them so strong.

Adolescence had torn them apart, adulthood had brought them together. Mycroft knew that. Knew that without the people they loved, without each other their lives would have turned out so very differently.

His husband shuffled closer and brushed his hand across Mycroft’s cheek.  It pulled him from the depths of his memories, eyes refocusing on the present.

“Mycroft? What’s the matter?” Greg asked.                                                           

He looked at the love of his life and smiled.

“Nothing much, Greg.” He replied. “Just thinking.”

Greg quirked an eyebrow in a very passable imitation of the Holmes eyebrow.

“Oh yeah? You do far too much of that at work to do it here in bed with me. What could be so very important to take up all the room in that beautiful brain of yours?”

Mycroft catalogued the face he knew so well, the smile lines around his mouth, the dimple in his cheek, the kindness that was always in those brilliant eyes.

“My life would be so empty without you. You…you make everything worth it. You and our child. You and John and even James, you ground us and make us so much better. I would not be even half the man I am without you.”

Greg began to tear up, a faint blush staining his cheeks.

“You sappy sod! It’s the hormones making me cry!” Greg wiped a thumb under his eyes and added softly, “I love you too. You make me a better man too.” Greg lent forwards and kissed him on the forehead.

Mycroft glanced to the clock on the bedside table, and sighed. The digital face read well past midnight. He reached down past their feet and brought up the scrunched up duvet over them. It was pleasantly cool on their bodies after their previous activities. Greg merely smiled at Mycroft and pulled it to his own satisfaction, as he in recent times needed to, one leg out and the duvet between his thighs and began the arduous task of getting all his pillows in the right spots. Afterwards he snuggled down into their bed and looked over to his lover, waiting for Mycroft to, as his usual, snuggle up behind him and cradle his belly. Mindful of every pillow.

He lent over Greg and flicked the lamp switch.

“Goodnight Greg.” Mycroft whispered, kissing the nape of Greg’s neck.

“Goodnight Mycroft.” Greg replied with an audible smile.

 

Mycroft stirred when he heard the first quiet trill of his alarm clock. The digital face read 5:30 in steady glowing red numbers. He sighed, mornings like this were getting to harder to get away from. His husband was snoring softly into his pillow, almost all the other pillows were still in the right place. Greg’s legs were both under the covers and one arm was under his head, the other over his belly.

Mycroft couldn’t think of a prettier picture to wake up to. Even with the wild bed hair. 

He silently crept out of bed, switching off the alarm as he passed to the window to pull back the curtains. Greg always insisted that he open the curtains in the morning, saying it was the best way to wake up feeling the morning sun on his face. Mycroft was aware that Greg liked to wake up early but early dawn in the summer usually resulted in a grumpy face. But as he insisted, Mycroft strove to please the love of his life.

Slipping out of their bedroom to the bathroom he began his morning ritual to get presentable. The British government couldn’t turn up to work looking like he had just been rolled through a hedge backwards. Even if said British government’s husband really, really loved the wild tangle of hair. Bed hair. Sex hair.

Suitably crisp suit and tamed curls, Mycroft picked his way back up the old staircase to their bedroom to finish his morning in the best way.

 Mycroft stopped for a moment to admire his handsome lover once more in the grey morning light.

He really was the luckiest man in the world. The alarm clock numbers informed him it was 6:15. He was early.

Stopping by the bed, he lent forwards to kiss Greg on the forehead as was his usual routine, placing his hand by Greg’s side to steady his weight above his sleeping partner. Halfway forwards he realised that the sheets didn’t feel right.

The sheets by Greg’s side were slightly squelching where he was leant on his hand.

Mycroft, feeling panic crawl up his throat, felt the wetness over his fingers and didn’t dare look down. A quick glance to his husband’s chest confirmed his regular deep breathing. Hand slightly shaking he drew back the covers. His heart leapt in to top gear, beating a horrible sharp staccato against his ribs when he finally looked down.

Red.

Crimson. Claret. Every possible word for it flowed through his mind like water through a sieve.

His entire world stopped turning in that single moment. Greg was bleeding. He was bleeding. So much blood. Too much blood.

Mycroft whipped out his mobile and dialled 999. The half second for the call to be picked up felt like an eternity. He used his blood covered hand to lightly shake Greg’s shoulder.

When he spoke he didn’t recognise the voice as his. It sounded so scared. So weak and unprepared.

“Greg?”

“Greg? Greg, you need to wake up. Greg, please, wake up.”

The call was answered with a calm, feminine voice.

“Which service do you need?”

Mycroft could barely remember how to speak anything other than Greg’s name.

“I, um, I need an ambulance. An ambulance, please. Please.” His voice was so quiet he could barely hear himself but the call was redirected immediately.

“Sir, could you tell me what’s happening?” Another feminine voice.

“He’s bleeding. He…he’s bleeding so much.” He could feel tears blocking his throat, his eyes never leaving Greg’s chest, watching the relaxed movements.

“Alright. Sir, can you tell me where he is bleeding from?”

“He’s pregnant. And he’s bleeding. So much, it’s too much blood!”

She calmly replied “Okay, sir, can you tell me your names? Could you tell me where you are? Do you know what happened?”

“He’s sleeping, Greg’s just sleeping, and I, I came to check on him and I found the blood, Jesus, it’s so much!” Mycroft could feel the panic warping his voice, he knew he should stay calm. He was always calm. But he couldn’t control it. Everything was spinning out of control. “We’re at home, Landsdown house, Lowndes square.”

“That’s good sir, an ambulance will be with you in about ten minutes. Can you stay on the phone with me? Does Greg have any pre-existing conditions?”

He could feel his breath shortening. He couldn’t get enough air. Mycroft felt his legs collapse beneath him. He was right next to Greg’s face.

“I…um…Jesus, Greg please wake up! He… he has a slightly low lying placenta. But that shouldn’t have done anything!” 

It was unbelievable how much he loved this man. This man who always found the good in him, even at his worst. Greg’s skin was pale, much paler than it should be. Mycroft reached out his bloody hand and stroked Greg’s cheek. Reassuringly warm, but he was so still. Greg always moved in his sleep, he should have known that something was wrong earlier. He should have known!

The operator’s voice filtered back in through his panic and self-recriminations.

“….Sir, sir can you hear me? The ambulance will be with you shortly. Is there anyone in the house who could show the paramedics in?”

Mycroft couldn’t think. The sight and smell of blood was filling his head.

“Sir, please this is important. We need to be able to get to Greg as soon as we can.”

“Sir? Please answer me.”

“I…I don’t… Greg, please, dear heart, please! Wake up!” Mycroft knew he was out of control but he could see he was losing his heart. Right in front of him with nothing he could do to stop it. 

“Sir, please, if there is no one else in the house could you please turn on the lights, as many as you can so the paramedics can find the house as quickly as they can. Can you do that?”

Mycroft slowly took in the operators words and staggered to his feet. His bloody hand slapped the bedroom light on, a few more steps away from his lover and the hall light had the same smeared print on it.

He shot a glance back at Greg lying so still in a seemingly rapidly growing pool of blood and forced himself to the stairs, every step away from his husband causing him pain. Mycroft took them two at a time completely ignoring their usual creak and landed heavily at the base, another smeared handprint on the wall marked where he steadied himself. He ran to the front door, slamming the living room and kitchen lights on, and wrenched open the front door.

The cold breeze that greeted him seemed to shock his breathing back into some semblance of normality.

Mycroft took in a huge clean breath and then dashed back towards the stairs. As soon as he reached Greg’s bedside he collapsed to his knees again.

Greg was still breathing slowly but the breaths were becoming slightly shallower with each inhale. The voice on the other end of the call began to speak again.

“Sir, can you tell me your name please?”

Mycroft couldn’t really believe that that was important. Why was his name important when they needed to focus every part of their efforts on saving the love of his life?

But an instinctive part of his brain worked his lips and a near silent ‘Mycroft’ left them.

“Thank you Mycroft. The ambulance is only a short distance from you. Have you switched on as many lights as you can? Is the door open?”

He continued to watch helplessly as Greg’s breathing became shallower still.

“Yes the bloody lights are on! But that is not going to help my husband stop bleeding is it! He needs help that I can’t provide and those bloody paramedics should have been here by now! This isn’t good enough!” He yelled down the phone.

The operators voice came back as calm as she had been before.

“Mycroft, shouting at me will not do anything. The paramedics are going as quickly as they can to reach you and your partner..”

“Husband!”

“Sorry, husband, and they will be able to provide the very best of care until they can get Greg to the hospital. But even though this is a scary situation I need for you to be calm and help the paramedics with anything they ask you when they arrive. Greg needs you to be calm and responsive, so he can get the best care. Can you take a few deep breaths for me? Just a couple.”

Mycroft knew he was being ridiculous but he couldn’t help it. Whenever Greg was involved he seemed to lose his head. The calm and critical mind that his colleagues were so enamoured with vanished under Greg’s spell. It was always the same. His mind was overruled by his heart.

He forced his lungs to slow down, pulling large breaths in and pushing them out just as slow. Two more and he could feel his mind coming back under his control. Two more and he couldn’t hear his heart beat in his ears anymore.

“Thank you Mycroft. Can you tell me how Greg is doing? How is his breathing?” the operator asked quietly.

Mycroft knew it wasn’t good. Greg’s breathing wasn’t laboured but it was getting shallower.

“He isn’t struggling to breathe but his breathing is getting shallower. He won’t wake up.”

The moment the words left his lips he felt so completely lost. He won’t wake up. If Greg never woke up again, he would never get to see his beautiful eyes again. He would never get to see him smile so gently at him again.

The panic from earlier was fading into an abyss. If his husband never woke up again, he would be alone. He would be a shadow. Mycroft couldn’t imagine his heart being able to beat without the man before him setting the pace. He wouldn’t survive.

Suddenly in the deathly quiet of their bedroom, Mycroft heard footsteps bounding across the dining room floor heading for the stairs.

The paramedics had arrived.

**Author's Note:**

> This work contains:  
> Allusions to two men having sex right at the beginning, very vague reference so I don't think many will really notice.  
> Mentions of male pregnancy as in the tags on the link, if you're returning you should feel that this is a recurring theme and if it's not your cuppa, exits are to your left. Thank you.  
> Mentions of blood. Now this isn't very graphic but it is present and can put some people off. It is in relation to a condition called placenta praevia, which does have different levels of severity and of course I have chosen to use an extreme example.  
> There are a few places where I have tried to get across a panic attack sort of feel, I hope that that is okay with all of you.  
> That should be it and as always if you feel there is something I have missed then do feel free to clue me in. 
> 
> Many thanks for reading my small contribution to this fandom, and if you feel the need do please inform the management of your enjoyment as I have always and will always treasure every kudos and comment that you feel my work deserves.
> 
> Much love Lou.


End file.
